


Contact High

by transboysora



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: (attempted), Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Coming In Pants, Dirty Talk, Episode: s02e10 High Noon, Frottage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Recreational Drug Use, i guess, its just a pile of filth idk what to tell y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 10:49:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10897791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transboysora/pseuds/transboysora
Summary: Mike and Harvey have some fun while smoking.





	Contact High

Somewhere between the second and third joint Mike and Harvey share on Mike’s tiny couch he stops resisting the urge to lean against Harvey, and while his boss gave him an odd look (or five, not that he’d been counting on purpose) he’d let it slide, indulging the associate for whatever reason. Mike doesn’t let himself give much thought to the idea that at least some of the reason was pity. He’d like to live in this world where Harvey lets him get all the contact he could ever want, whenever he wants it. It’s quite a lot easier to do when they’re both this high and he soon finds himself more at ease, a lazy smile playing across his lips as he peers up at Harvey from his lap. Harvey looks down at him with a stern, exasperated look that is trying just a _bit_ too hard to conceal a smile and brings a hand down to begin running his fingers slowly through Mike’s hair, starting at his hairline and moving back until his hand had no more room to move, repeating the process several more times until Mike starts to feel like putty in Harvey’s hands, his eyes fluttering closed, head rolling to the side, and mouth open rather stupidly. He doesn’t speak a word, not sure if a coherent one would even come close to forming if he tried, but he does give a soft sigh that makes Harvey still for a split second. Mike holds his breath, prepared for backlash but instead feels Harvey’s hands move further down his face, fingertips grazing his temple, then more firmly touching his cheek, and finally to cup his jaw, using enough pressure to force Mike to turn his head and look at him, eyes wide open at this point. Harvey is staring right back at him with a much more intense look on his face than Mike would have expected.

“Sit up,” Harvey orders. Mike hesitates though does as he’s told fairly quickly, sitting up but not putting any extra distance between them, unsure if he was in trouble somehow. “Do you want this?” he asks, and Mike’s brain stalls, thoughts all at once coming to a halt to focus on what the words could mean.

“Do I want what?” he asks eventually, unable to think of an explanation that wasn’t entirely based off what he wanted to happen but sure that he couldn’t have meant what Mike thought he meant.

Harvey gives him a look, one that very clearly says he thinks Mike is an idiot. Mike knows he isn’t one, though, and knows that Harvey knows it too so he isn’t too fazed, especially not stoned as he is. “I know you can’t be that stupid with that brain of yours, kid,” he replies. 

“Excuse me for not being able to read your mind,” Mike retorts, grinning to himself as he sees Harvey’s eyes roll fondly.

“Come here.”

Alright, that confuses Mike more because their legs are already touching and as he quirks a brow and makes to tell Harvey that he’s about as _here_ as he could possibly be, he’s being pulled by his shirt into clumsily straddling Harvey’s lap, knees on either side of the older man’s thighs and hands gripping his shoulders to steady himself after the sudden tug.

“Do you want this?” He asks again, and he’s starting to think the words are just a formality because this position and Harvey’s cocky, self-assured grin tell Mike that he probably knows Mike wants this. Wants him. This thought would probably make him nervous in any other situation but right now it just takes his breath away, making him unable to respond but for an entirely too vigorous nod that makes Harvey chuckle lowly and grab Mike by the hips, pulling him more firmly down and toward the other, leaving practically no space between their bodies. The way Harvey is looking at Mike (eyes darker than normal with how much his pupils are dilated, licking his lips and letting those eyes blatantly look down to Mike’s own) makes his knees buckle and without another thought he’s kissing Harvey.

The kiss is hard and quickly gets sloppy, with intoxication or arousal or more likely a combination of the two. Mike hears and feels Harvey moan and the sound makes him start to swell in his pants probably a little too fast, something that apparently gets Harvey off if the way he roughly pulls the younger to grind down on his own growing erection is anything to go by. The action pulls a strangled moan from Mike and Harvey smirks into the kiss and does it again, and again, and again until he doesn’t need to; Mike can’t help but rock his hips down, moaning louder and quickly growing fully hard, something that doesn’t escape Harvey.

“You gonna come just from this, Mike?” Harvey very obviously means this as a joke, a grin playing on his lips as he pulls his head away, presumably to let Mike respond. Except Mike thinks he probably could, thinks Harvey would have absolutely no problem making him make a mess of his jeans right here on his lap. That thought really only serves to turn him on further and as he watches Harvey’s face he can see the moment he realizes what his lack of response means as his eyes widen and his mouth falls open just a little. “Fuck,” he groans out the word, grip on Mike’s hips tightening almost painfully. “Do it.”

Mike feels something clench pleasantly in the pit of his stomach at the words, hips canting downward once more and groaning low in his throat as his head falls forward onto Harvey’s shoulder. He’s embarrassingly close already, lost in the high of both the weed and the fact that he’s doing this with Harvey Specter, of all people.

He really doesn’t need much encouragement but Harvey provides it anyway, muttering into his ear about how he wanted to see and feel Mike come for him, how he was doing _so_ good and just a little more and _god_ , Mike could listen to Harvey talk forever; he tells him as much and gets something between a throaty groan and laugh in return.

“Yeah?” Harvey’s voice is unbearably smug and fuck if Mike didn’t get off on that too, nodding and biting back a whine.

“Yeah,” he sighs out. “Fuck, Harvey. I’m so close.” Mike can feel everything building to near unbearable levels and he’s practically shaking, writhing on top of Harvey’s lap more erratically than ever.

“Come on, babe,” Harvey’s voice is rough and demanding and that, that is what finally does Mike in, voice choking on a sob of Harvey’s name as he comes panting hotly against his neck and gripping on tightly to his shoulders with eyes screwed shut.

It takes a minute for Mike to recover, muscles relaxing and body stilling as he catches his breath, becoming acutely aware of the mess in his underwear and pants that would probably feel completely disgusting soon but right now only serves to tear one more small moan out of him. The next thing he becomes aware of is Harvey’s hand between their bodies and inside of his suit pants. Oh no. Mike is not having that and he lets the other man know this by grabbing and pulling his hand away.

Before Harvey can ask what Mike thinks he’s doing his associate is on his knees in front of him, pulling his legs apart so he can slot himself between them. “Let me.” It isn’t a question but Mike still waits for an answer that comes in the form of Harvey undoing his pants and pulling his underwear down enough to expose himself and hand coming out to grab a handful of Mike’s hair, tugging his head forward so his mouth is hovering over Harvey’s already leaking cock. Mike gasps at the treatment, eyes almost rolling back but quickly focusing on Harvey once again, fast enough to see the moment an idea formed on his face.

“Would you let me fuck your face, sweetheart?” Mike’s breath catches in his throat, both from the request and the second pet name that night (second pet name ever, really) and gulps, nodding quickly. 

“Good boy, stop me if it’s too much.” Mike nods again and Harvey wastes little time after that, gripping Mike’s hair with both hands as Mike opens his mouth to take his dick, groaning around it each time Harvey’s hips snap up, shallowly at first and then becoming faster and deeper. 

“Shit, Mike,” Harvey bites out, movements becoming less controlled as he gets closer to coming undone. “Fuck, your mouth is so good. You’re gonna make me come. Do you want that? You want me to come down your throat?” Harvey’s talking is rapid and Mike isn’t sure he’s totally aware of what he’s saying, thinks it may be involuntary because he never dreamed he would hear Harvey say anything like that to him. If he weren’t already spent the praise may have gotten him hard again. As it is, all he can do is moan his agreement and breathe best he can through his nose as Harvey uses him (and fuck he shouldn’t like the sound of that so much). Less than a minute later Harvey’s grip on his hair tightens to near painful levels and soon after Mike is struggling to swallow down his release, gasping heavily as Harvey lets him go.

Mike isn’t sure what will happen next, if Harvey will up and leave, if he’ll act like none of this ever happened and Mike will have to long for him knowing part of what he was missing and fuck, if that happened how would Mike ever work with Harvey the same way again? How would he be able to look his boss in the eye? What if–

“Mike.” Harvey’s voice pulls him from his thoughts and he’s thankful, knows that the downward spiral of self doubt would never be a good thing, especially not while high. He takes a deep breath and stands, knees wobbling a bit. Harvey smirks and reaches out a hand to steady him and then promptly pull him down to sit on the couch once more. “I can see you overthinking this,” Harvey chastises, though not without an air of fondness that only Mike seemed capable of bringing out in him. “We can talk about it later, once we’re both sober.” Mike knows this could be a lie, that sober Harvey may very well avoid the topic all together but he has to hope otherwise or else he’d end up driving himself crazy. 

“Yeah,” he agrees, moving to lean his head on Harvey’s shoulder and smiling dopily when an arm is wrapped around his own shoulders. He’s a quite bit more optimistic after that. Maybe they’d be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like any disbelief about the number of joints they smoked and the fact that Harvey's suit would likely be wrinkled to all hell because of this to be suspended because I know this isn't likely but inspiration hit as I was watching High Noon. I'm super nervous about posting this but I've been stressing about this dumb fic for days so here it is! You can find me @transtoddbrotzman on tumblr if you'd like. Please be gentle with the criticism or else I may cry. Thank you for reading! Reviews really would be mega welcome!!  
> P.S. double thanks to all the people that helped me out while writing this (aka every marvey fan I've badgered on tumblr) and triple thanks to @novemberhush for the title <3


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